


SOFT AND WILD.

by ladyofstardvst



Series: frail bones, bloody skin [1]
Category: Marvel, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Explicit Language, First Meetings, just something short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofstardvst/pseuds/ladyofstardvst
Summary: you've seen frank every night you play at a local dive bar. he's really there to see you, but he won't tell you that.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Reader, frank castle/musician!reader
Series: frail bones, bloody skin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875445
Kudos: 13





	SOFT AND WILD.

**Author's Note:**

> ive expanded my vigilante list, it seems. also haven't edited this as much as i usually do so hello apologies in advance

The first time you met him, you wondered if you were going to die.

It was a balmy, August night after the moon had risen stark and bright against the blackened sky. City-light painted over the blanket of stars long wished to be seen, wished to be remembered. Just like him, yet not quite like that at all.

He had been here often enough over the summer – you guessed he was either a new regular, or someone looking to lay low in plain sight. Cities were notorious for shedding an old skin in favor of another, after all. In any case, he was always there when you hauled your gear onstage for live music on Tuesday’s. Your slot was late enough the only people still around were out for the music, or looking to forget that life even existed. The music just became the soundtrack to their sorrow, their fear, their way to be forgotten.

Which one he claimed to be, was beyond you.

There were other nights you saw him around, sure. He was there when you, yourself needed a place to go, somewhere to escape far, far away from prying eyes and constant company of the band you practiced with almost daily. It was where you came to be alone, this dive bar always crowded with people.

Frank Castle had noticed something since he first stepped foot onto the sticky taproom floor and the _now_ , when you brushed against him one night with the hour closer to dawn than dusk. You were merely picking up your next drink at the emptying bar. It was the look in your eyes, perhaps, how they seemed startlingly present and so very distant all at once. How you didn’t hold conversations when you left the booth you claimed. Maybe it was because they usually ended with you insisting that _no, our next setlist_ _is_ _a secret_ , or, _if you don’t want to keep your hand, let me just rip it off for you._

A kindred spirit of sorts, it seemed.

You almost wished it was something out of a storybook, how you properly met Frank Castle, but you’ve found out firsthand that life isn’t a fairy tale or some old-school, classic romance novel. It’s not even a shitty B-rated movie that’s so ridiculous it could actually be inspired by a real event.

 _No_.

It’s a balmy August night, closer to dawn than dusk. Last call had just come and gone, and on a whim he told you his name and offered to walk you home.

There was hesitation, an unspoken tension lingered in the air in the seconds that followed. A chance. A step into the void. You watched the news, heard stories from people you’ve talked with over the course of your life. Trust was a fragile thing, these days. A _rarity_.

You watched each other, Frank’s expression open, friendly. Concern about overstepping slowly creeping into his heart, his bones, his mind. You, bleeding caution and wrestling with the voice in your head that whispered to _watch out, it could be a trap_ – but if it _wasn’t_?

The bartender – a woman you knew well enough, _trusted_ when it came to reading people – called your name from behind the counter, said that Frank was a decent sort, helped take out the riff raff on occasion. You had known that – seen it happen on the more vicious circumstances – but then again, no one thought Ted Bundy was capable of murder, either.

A chance. A step into the void you accepted on a whim of your own. Promised to let her know when you made it home, a selfie attached as proof.

“Didn’t mean to scare you back there,” Frank says once you’re back under the night sky. His apology shattered the fragile silence between you, the silence that cocooned around you. “The world is. . . I could have at least bought you a drink first.”

But Frank Castle didn’t get close to people, not anymore. When had the universe ever listened to his wishes? A normal sort of life was not in the stars for him; it never was, and he expected it never would be. He wondered if this was a mistake, reaching out. It’s how he got people _killed_.

You step through the broken glass of silence carefully, chose the dullest looking shards to step on. “You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” a smile accompanied your reply. A challenge, playful like a game of 20 questions laced between your words.

He laughed low and quiet, the irony too much for him to shake off.

The sound drifted around you on the warm breeze, your heart skipped a beat. Stomach flipped. Skin tingled when you walk a little too close and brushed against him for the second time in your life.

_That’s s_ _trange._

“No,” he answered, the ghost of a smile fought for a place upon his lips. “And I promise I won’t stalk you either.”

“That’s what they all say, you know,” a laugh of your own chased away the tension that no longer had a place there. You watched the discomfort melt into the wind and run far, far away from you.

Conversation flows like honey after that, all smooth and golden and never ending. Time was at a standstill, moving so very slowly you wondered if these moments were frozen in time. You thought as much, until the silhouette of your apartment building edged closer with every lazy, languid step you took.

“Here we are,” your arrival at the door broke the lull in conversation, and you elected to ignore the sudden pang of disappointment that nestled in your chest, warm and heavy and _odd_. You turned to face him, drowning in mystery as the moon’s descent amplified the shadows that fell across his face. “Thank you - for walking me home.”

He nodded, eyes glittered when they caught in the dingy streetlight. _My pleasure,_ he told you, shoved his hands in pockets. Ignored the familiar feeling that spread through his chest when you laughed at something he said, ignored how _easy_ it was for you to unearth his real smile – the one he hadn’t felt in eons and eons and eons. He ignored all of that, and waited while you hovered, the front door propped open with your shoulder. Frank felt his breath catch when you turned around, asked him one last simple question.

“How about that drink tomorrow?”

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what, exactly, it was about this familiar stranger that made you _feel_. Made you remember parts of yourself you hadn’t seen in so long; reminded you how _nice_ it was to talk to someone _new_. You weren’t sure about anything when it came to this new acquaintance of yours, but you very much wanted to find out.

The universe never granted the wishes of Frank Castle, but _fuck_ the universe. He didn’t want to let you slip through his fingers just yet.


End file.
